


Babysat

by DerpyMcButtface



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 08:05:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DerpyMcButtface/pseuds/DerpyMcButtface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt drags Hermann along on a babysitting job, and to their horror their charge is the Kaidonovsky's terrifying four year old daughter. While the parents are away, little Satan Jr. becomes the stuff of nightmares and urban legends, old rivalries rise up again and our scientists grow perhaps a little bit closer as Newton and Hermann compete to be #1 babysitter, crossdress, and maybe even survive the night with all their limbs intact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Opening

**Author's Note:**

> For the following anonymous prompt:   
> "I've seen some Newt/Hermann babysitting fics and they are ADORABLE AND I LOVE THEM but right now I want to prompt a babysitting fic where both of them are TERRIBLE. They just can't handle it. But they start off with thinking, "Oh, how hard could it be?" I'm partial to the Newt/Hermann pairing but if filler does it as gen, that's cool too.
> 
> IF we go the route of Newt/Hermann pairing I wouldn't mind seeing them both a little bit horrified after the kid gets picked up and wondering if they shouldn't ever have kids. But then maybe some fluff and they're like, "OUR kid will be WAY BETTER BEHAVED than that.""

“Two days before we get out of Vladivostok and go back to Hong Kong and you just-“ Hermann couldn’t find words to express himself and settled for going back to scolding. “I don’t know whoever trusted you to babysit, but I don’t understand why you had to rope me in and-“

“…Because you’re CPR certified and I’m not,” Newt replied. “They said, ‘well, as long as there’s someone there who’s CPR certified-‘“

“Newton, I hate it when you just sign me up for things without telling me… And for what reason do you believe you are even qualified to babysit, I wouldn’t trust you with a cactus!”

“Kids love me, Hermann,” Newt said confidently. “You know, I just have a special way of communicating with them. It’s like, I totally get them.”

“Children are human beings with the appropriate mental capacity and communication skills, not animals...”

“Remember Public Day? The kiddies were all over me,” he bragged. “Oh, here we are, Quarters #201…” Newton gave a smile that was a little too excited and rapped eagerly on the door. “Hey! Hey! Babysitters here, who’s ready for some science?”

The door opened and the smile evaporated off of Newt’s face like a Frostee in hell. 

“You are not Lena,” Sasha Kaidanovsky stated coldly. She glared down at the scientists. Already taller than Newton and as tall as Hermann, in the pointiest stilettos he had ever seen, she positively loomed over the both of them. 

Newton gulped and mumbled something. He was doubly surprised, first by the fact that he was not informed as to whose child he had signed up to babysit, and second because he had never seen Sasha Kaidanovsky in anything besides her usual work clothes, much less in diamonds and the tiniest black dress ever, and God those legs looked like they had came right out of a CLAMP artbook- “Lena’s sick, so they sent me- us,” he explained weakly, all too aware that he was oogling. Behind him, Hermann gave an angry snort.

“Show me the papers,” she commanded, holding her hand out imperiously.

“Yeah, I got-“ Newton shuffled through his messenger’s bag in a panic. Shit. “I-I’m sorry, just hold on a second, haha I mean more than a second, I mean ten minutes, I forgot th-“

“Here they are,” Hermann said calmly, taking the notice sheets out of his leather case. “I’m sorry that my colleague is such an irresponsible, unorganized fellow,” Hermann said stuffily and Sasha scrutinized the dispatch papers for any hint of forgery. 

“Very well,” she said reluctantly. “It seems that everything is in order. Come in.” 

“C-Cool! I’ve never been in a Ranger’s room before, do you guys ever keep any Kaiju parts because if you do, I- Ouch!” Newton moaned as Hermann whacked him with his cane as he walked by.

The inside of the Russians’ apartment was well lit and had a comfortable, homey atmosphere. Childproof devices were sprinkled generously throughout the place- foam corners on every edge, plastic covers over every outlet- Newton half expected a public safety announcement to flash over his vision at any second. 

“My daughter, Viktoriya,” Sasha stated, tilting her head towards the direction of the child.

Viktoriya, was four years old but short for her age, snow-blonde like her mother but with her father’s sharp brows and nose. She was currently occupied, sitting on her father’s lap and using his massive, muscled arms as a ski slope for some brightly-colored plastic animals. Her father (Aleksis, Newt remembered. His name was Aleksis, not Sasha…) was the tallest human being Newt had ever seen, and he had been to Dr. Sten’s Parade of Oddities at least fifty times in middle school. His tall wife looked like a doll next to him, and in his arms, his tiny daughter looked like one of those photoshopped fairy hoax pictures. Currently, he was patiently sitting as still as a small mountain as his daughter lined rabbits on his arm. Occasionally he would say something deep and damn near infrasound, but apparently his daughter had no trouble listening to things pressing the lowest limit of human hearing and babbled back happily. 

“Tonight, we have been ordered to attend a fundraising gala for the PPDC, along with our colleagues from the Nova Hyperion, Ms. Pang and Ms. An. We are about to leave, and we will return in five hours, at midnight. Viktoriya should be in bed long before then. I have left a schedule of the evening on the refrigerator. Do not deviate from it unless if in case of emergency,” Sasha commanded sternly, her blue eyes narrowing threateningly as she regarded Newton and Hermann. “Do you have any questions?”

He finally admitted his reservations. “Well, I’m afraid my Russian isn’t very good, and by that I mean I can’t speak Russian at all, and uh…” Newton tried to find a way to state that if her parents had been the one who taught Vika English, only a codebreaker would be able to understand her. But Mr. Kaidanovsky apparently caught onto his train of thought.

“’Er Englich ez perfeck,” Aleksis growled from where his daughter was pulling his beard and climbing onto his head, bristling in anger at the supposed slight.

“Hah, no, no, I’m sure it is!” Newton exclaimed, backpedaling wildly. 

“Iz t’ere problem?”

“No, sir, no, not at all, I’m honored to babysit Mika- uh, Vika-“

Sasha called out something in Russian, and Aleksis laughed back and muttered something too. Apparently satisfied, he stood up, Vika in his arms. He kissed the top of her head roughly, and she laughed wildly as her father’s beard scratched her face. “Papa, Papa, RussianRussianRussianRussian,” she whined, little hands wrapped around his tie.

“RussianRussianRussianRussian,” the man replied, kissing her noisily on both cheeks. “RussianRussian.” The exchange finished, he threw her in the air, caught her, and tried to put her back down on the carpet, only to end up with her stuck to his arm like a persistent piece of duct tape.

“Naaaaaaaa,” Viktoriya whined, and it took both parents five minutes to gently disengage her and put her back down on her play mat. 

“RussianRussianRussianRussian, Mama and Papa RussianRussianRussianRussian,” Sasha cooed and kissed her daughter’s cheeks, leaving behind bright red prints. This seemed to calm Viktoriya, and the Kaidanovskys stood up and headed towards the doorway. 

“One more thing,” Sasha said quietly, as she and Aleksis left.

“Yeah?” Newt asked.

“You have six doctorates, correct?” Sasha asked, crossing her arms. Partially hidden by the top of the doorframe, her oversized husband mimicked the motion behind her, adding a grunt for emphasis. 

“Yes, ma’am, my first was in-“

“Good, in that case we will break six of your bones for everyone one thing that my daughter says went wrong. Good evening. We will see you in five hours.” With that, the Kaidanovskys left, leaving Newton frozen in place.

“I won’t stop them, you know,” Hermann said frostily. 

Newton took a moment to survey his surroundings. It wasn’t a large apartment- just the living room, a kitchenette, a bedroom, a bathroom, and what had previously been a small room before having been converted into a child’s room. Safety first, and he gave an approving nod before turning his attention his charge, who was still sitting where her father had left her, looking sullenly at the newcomers. 

“Isn’t she the sweetest little thing? So adorable!” Newton squealed. “Don’t you want to hug her?”

Hermann only rolled his eyes. “Going purely by her bloodlines, I am not stepping within five feet of her.”

“No, look, she’s a little angel! She looks like she came right off a Christmas card! Hermann, Hermann, come on, take a picture of us- I am totally using these as my Christmas card…”

“Newton, I am not- no, no, I am not touching your iPhone; it probably has Kaiju biohazard all over it-“

“Aww, come on Hermann…”

“No.”

“Fine. Me and Vika are going to have a party without you,” he replied petulantly, patting his knee. “Vika, hey Vika, wanna say hi?” Viktoriya reluctantly came over, her hands clasped behind her back as she dragged her feet. “I’m Uncle Newt, and this is Auntie Hermann-“

“Newton!”

“-We’re going to have a lot of fun together, Viktoriya, Vika- …Can I call you Viki?” he asked, smiling and reaching up a hand to pat her head. 

Viktoriya screeched and bit his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

“Well, I’d like to see you do better, Mr. I-hate-puppies-rainbows-and-kittens!” Newton whined as Hermann applied ointment and bandages to his hand.

“I daresay that I wasn’t the one who just got bitten by a small child.”

“You weren’t even near her!”

“Come now Newt, just admit it, you cannot handle small children, being one yourself-“

“No! Like you’re one to talk, kids hate you!”

Hermann’s back straightened as if he had been slapped. “Newton Geiszler, that is an accursed lie and you know it-“

“Do you know what the thank-you cards from the primary school said? You know what the kids wrote? ‘We Love You Dr. Geiszler!’ Not a single child mentioned you except for the one who thought you looked like a turtle-“

Hermann’s nostrils flared in rage as he thumped his cane on the kitchen floor. “Just watch. When Miss Viktoriya’s parents return, she will declare, ‘Dr. Gottlieb is a virtuoso in childcare,’” he hissed. 

“Bring it!”

“Yes, I will have brought it!” Hermann snarled, but a peeping voice called out from the living room.

“Come out, I hear you talking.” 

Newt and Hermann exchanged surprised glances- so Mr. Kaidanovsky had not been exaggerating about his daughter’s English skills. She even had a very faint British accent.

“Haha, yes, we’re coming,” Newt laughed, walking over to her and crouching down, careful to not let any limbs near her face. “Hi Vika!” 

She stared at him with judgmental blue eyes and a serious downturn to her lips. Whoever had claimed that children were little blank slates of innocence and purity had probably never had to introduce himself to one. “Mama said Ms. Lera was coming to play with me,” she stated warily. 

“Haha, no, we’re friends of Ms. Lera. Ms. Lera wanted to come play with you today, yes she did, but she got a boo-boo and had to go to bed early. You can call me-“ 

“Good evening, I am Dr. Gottlieb, pleasure to meet your acquaintance,” Hermann said formally, pushing Newt aside, bending down, and extending a hand.

Newton flinched, but Vika took his hand and shook it with a firm grip, as if she was familiar with the gesture- well, of course she was! She was the daughter of Rangers, no doubt she had been introduced (if only for PR) to a lot of handshakey kind of people. “Hi Auntie Hermann,” she said stoically, without much interest or affection. Hermann looked like he was about to strangle Newton, but then again that was his normal state of being anyways. 

“Newton, didn’t Kaidanovsky say that there was a schedule, or a plan or some sort, on the fridge? Why don’t we go see what we are supposed to be doing with this creature?” Hermann asked coldly. 

“Why don’t you- oh, fine,” Newton grumbled, heading back into the kitchen and examining the fridge, which was covered in crayon drawings and tests (why the Kaidanovskys were so proud of their daughter getting a rather low 8.5/10 on a math quiz though, was beyond him). He searched for a while, looking for a list, before coming to a sickening realization.

“Hermann!” he shouted, darting out of the kitchen with the paper in hand. “Hermann, look at this!” 

“What? Newton, just read it, can’t you see I am busy?” Hermann asked irately, trying his best to defend himself as Vika mauled him with a plastic reindeer. “Ouch- no, oh, please stop that, that hurts- ouch, ouch-“

“Read it? Can you?” Newt asked sourly, showing him the schedule. “Because I can’t. It’s in Russian.”

“Oh my.”

“Yeah… Well… Looks like we’re winging it, unless you can remember any of the Russian you learned in high school?”

Hermann clenched his teeth, his face white as the reindeer’s horn jabbed into his arm. “What if- what if it says that she has some sort of food allergy? This is nothing to make light of!” 

“How is it that you’re fluent in four languages and none of them is Russian?! Then start reading!”

“The IB Russian test was years ago!” Hermann moaned, squinting at the neat handwriting on the paper. “I don’t see the word ‘allergy?’”

“That’s probably the first word you learn in any language, I bet. But that means we’re all clear!” 

“I can’t read anything except for that there is food in the fridge,” Hermann complained.

“Good enough, did Sasha say that we can eat it too?”

“No, Newton, no- good grief, Vika stop that!” he said, flustered and in pain.

Newton watched the proceedings in glee as Vika added a great white shark to the mix. “Hermann, do you need a bit of help?” he asked in an innocent voice.

“Actually, Vika and I are getting along excellently,” Hermann said, his voice oddly choked as he attempted to fend her away with one hand while leaning on the cane with the other. “A bit… Sharply, but…”

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” Newt simpered.

“Positive- No, Vika, no- not my cane-

Alarmed, Newton quickly grabbed Vika under her arms and hauled her away as she tried to grapple his friend’s cane out of his hand. “Whoa there, kiddo. Auntie Hermann needs that cane,” he chided, tossing her up in the air and holding her up against his shoulder. 

“I had it all under control, Newton,” Hermann told him frostily. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Newton smirked, but his bragging rights were quickly revoked when Vika grabbed his glasses and tugged them off his face. “Vika, Vika, give me back my glasses-“

“You were saying?” the other scientist asked smugly. 

Apparently amused by the pain of others, Vika only laughed and waved her arm up and down, the glasses secure in her palm. 

Thankfully, Newton retained his intellect in the face of despair. “Vika,” he said cajolingly. “Fine, you have the glasses. But do you want to play a fun game? If you give me back my glasses, we can go do a fun game,” he offered. “If not, then we don’t get to play games.”

The child considered this, and suspiciously handed him back his glasses, now smeared with handprints. Newton polished and put them back on with relief and put Vika down, giving Hermann an even smugger glance, as if to say, See, I know what I’m doing.

“I want to play a game now,” Vika ordered. 

“Okay, what game?”

“I don’t know. But you said we’d play a fun game.”

Newton slowly edged back. “Well… Let me think of a nice game, like one you’ve never played before…”

“I disagree, Newton. Numerous studies have proved time after time that children should have routine in their lives,” Hermann warned, smarting that his colleague had gotten out of danger so easily. 

“No way! That’s inhumane, man. Kids need- surprise parties, and spontaneous beach trips and-“

“Surprises- spontaneity- good grief no! I have to remember to never let you anywhere near my children in the future,” Hermann muttered.

“Considering how great you are with Vika, I’m never going to let you near mine either!” 

“She simply caught me by surprise- you can’t judge my childcare abilities just by one trial, imagine if you did a drug test like that-“

“Wait, what if my kids were your kids, then that’s a paradox right there-“

“Newton how would that even happen?” Hermann spluttered, fidgeting with the collar of his sweater like he did when embarrassed. “Come on, we have more pressing matters at hand,” he added, turning to address Vika. “Viktoriya, what sort of activities do you normally do with your parents?” 

“Stuff,” Vika said.

“You need to be more specific.”

“Why?”

Hermann thumped his cane against the floor. “Or else I won’t know what sort of activities to do with you, because we cannot read your schedule?”

“Why?”

“Or else we’re going to sit and you’re going to sit and we’re not going to do anything fun,” Newt said quickly. 

That made Vika think fast. “We play Jaeger,” she said.

“Excellent, we’ll play Jaeger, then,” Hermann said, shooting Newt a victorious glance, which only deepened as Vika screamed in glee. “Newton, take note, routine makes children feel safe and-“ His sentence was cut off as Vika started making a strange gesture with her hands. She was standing in a wide stance and punching her knuckles together. It looked familiar somehow, but Hermann couldn’t quite put his finger on where until he remembered Vika’s parents. “…Newton. Newton, that’s… Cherno Alpha’s taunt,” he said weakly, before Vika screamed and tackled Newt’s knees. 

Despite his stocky build, Newton went down with a surprised yelp, and Vika wasted no time in climbing over and hooking a little arm around his head. 

“Help me!” Newt gasped, as his friend simply stood back and thanked whatever gods there were that it wasn’t him down there. “Hermann, you’re the one who suggested it-“

“Well I- I wasn’t aware that ‘playing Jaeger’ would consist of a Greco-Roman wrestling match-“

“I didn’t either so help me!” The scientist attempted to disengage the child with one arm, as the other was pinned under her squirming body. 

“How?”

“I don’t know! Oh God- Vika, Vika no, get off me-“

Vika only let out a roar and shouted, “Tesla Fists Activate! Roll of Nickels, Grab!” before smacking her fist into the side of Newt’s head.

“Owww, oww,” he yelped, his free arm going up to seize one of her arms. “Vika, no, why are you so violent?”

“Jaegers are cool!” she squealed.

Newton’s eyes flashed, despite the fact that his head was being pummeled by a small child. “Ah… Yes, but have you seen a Kaiju’s organ systems? Really, I understand the appeal of Jaegers but if you really examine the extensive nature of the interlocking systems in a Kaiju’s body… Ouch! Ouch! Hermann!” 

“What, would you like me to give you CPR?” Hermann snorted. 

“Just grab her other hand, okay?” 

“I haven’t gotten my rabies booster, I’m afraid.”

“Hermann!” Newt wailed as Vika broke free and continued her assault with both hands back in action.

“Newton, what exactly do you expect me to do? I can’t kneel down, and I only have one arm,” Hermann explained patiently, as if to a particularly thick child. “I can hit her with my cane, but I don’t think that such an action would be looked upon with much approval… Especially from her parents.”

“Please, Hermann?” Newt asked.

Hermann sighed. If he was going to say ‘please…’ Remembering the drawings on the fridge, he cleared his throat and said, “Miss Viktoriya, do you like art?”

The little demon stopped to regard him. “Yes?” 

“Well, if you allow Dr. Geizler to get out his smart phone, I believe the Guggenheim has a very fine app that allows you to browse the highlights of its collections… Or if you prefer a less contemporary period, I have to suggest the Getty-”

Vika and Newton both stared at him in incomprehension.

Hermann sniffed. “Fine, living artists it is then, I-“

“Arts and crafts!” Newton shouted, leaping up excitedly as if he had not just been mauled by a badger. “Arts and crafts, Hermann, I love arts and crafts!”

“Newton, no, I fully intend to introduce the both of you to the finer points of culture and-“

“Come on Vika, you have any toothpicks? Let’s build a Kaiju out of gumdrops!”

Vika cheered, and Hermann knew he had lost this battle.


	3. Cards and Craft

“Newton, what are you doing?” Hermann demanded.

 

“Eheheh…. God, I love this shit!”

 

“Newton, _watch your language!_ And I asked you what you are doing. If you do not reply, I will assume the worst.”

 

“Aww, Hermann… Well if you really want to know, I’m trying to make a proportional model of Raythe. That beast was-”

 

“I have never seen anyone over the age of twelve enjoy pipecleaners so immensely. If you would just act like an adult for once-“

 

“Why don’t you make something with us?” he asked cheerfully, undeterred by Hermann’s ill humor.

 

Hermann sniffed haughtily. “I do not engage in this… Art. I have better things to do than sculpting and- drawing and- _art_ things. Art was made to be studied, not to be made.”

 

Newton pouted.

 

“Really, you should do something cleaner, like Miss Viktoriya is… What is it that you are doing?”

 

“Making a card.” Vika didn’t look up from where she was coloring in a lopsided heart on a piece of construction paper.

 

“Oh, for who?”

 

“God.”

 

Newton and Hermann gave each other troubled glances.

 

“Oh, I see, you’re making a paper to a much disagreed-upon social construct, a figment of popular imagination that supposedly exists-“

 

Hermann hit him with his cane again. “That’s nice. I see. What are you writing?”

 

“Just asking for stuff.”

 

“I see. …A… Pony?” Hermann asked.

 

“No, just for my parents to come home tonight. I can’t find the purple crayon.”

 

“Well of course they are coming back,” Newton exclaimed, handing her the crayon. “They’re just going out to-“

 

This time, he stopped himself before Hermann hit him again. He’d never thought about what it was like to be a child of two Rangers. It probably seemed to her that every time her parents left the apartment, there was always a possibility that they would not be coming back, and she was very conscious of that. A fact of life, of sorts.

 

“That’s not purple. That’s magenta. Also asking for my brother back. I asked Mama for a brother and she said that I had one once but that he’s with God now and not to talk to her or Papa about my brother anymore. So I’m asking if I can borrow him for a day. Just for fun.”

 

“I see,” Hermann replied, his throat tightening.

 

“Can you write it for me?” Vika requested, handing over the crayon.

 

“Of course, Miss. What do you want me to write?”

 

Vika put her hands together and dictated, “ _RussianRussianRussianRussian RussianRussianRussianRussian RussianRussianRussianRussian RussianRussianRussianRussian._ ”

 

“Aww Vika, we’re not as smart as you and we can’t speak Russian!” Newton wheedled. “Why don’t you try in English.”

 

Vika looked at him as if he had suggested that she pluck a live chicken. “But what if God doesn’t understand English?”

 

“God,” Hermann said, and quietly added “if there is one… God will always understand you.”

 

“Awww, that’s sweet, Auntie Hermann, do you think God understands me too?”

 

“ _No one_ understands you, Dr. Geizler,” Hermann snapped.

 

“Well, no one understands you either, _Dr. Gottlieb,_ ” Newton grumbled. “Even sometimes I don’t-“

 

“I’m going to write it myself then,” Vika announced,

 

“Wait. I think this might help…” Herman motioned for the card, which the girl handed over with some reluctance. There was a snapping sound as he extracted a fold-up ruler from his coat pocket, and with the preciseness of an Inkjet printer, he drew a series of perfectly-spaced pen lines on the card as a guide for her handwriting. “There,” he said, handing it back. 

 

“You drew on my card!” she complained.

 

“Yes, but now you can write in perfectly straight lines, so your God can read your handwriting better.”

 

“You used blue, I don’t like blue…”

 

“Yeah Hermann, she doesn’t like blue!”

 

Flustered, Hermann clenched his fists. “Well, you must excuse me then!” he said a bit too harshly, as Vika scowled.

 

“You ruined my card!”

 

“I did _not!_ I made it better! Look at the nice even lines-“

 

“You ruined my card and now I have to make a new one!” Vika screamed, hurling her crayon at his face. “God’s going to hate this card!”

 

“Yeah, Hermann, seriously!”

 

“ _Newton_ you are not helping- okay, Vika, okay, how about this… I write a card- a note to God too, okay?” he asked, sweating. “I’ll explain that I did a bad thing and that it’s not your fault, and he’ll understand. Okay?”

 

“You have to sign it,” Vika growled, looking a little bit too much like her father at the moment.

 

“Of course. It has to be official, doesn’t it?” Hermann sighed, and shot his colleague a glare when Newt began his annoying snort-laugh again. “You write your message in Cyrillic, and I’ll write my apology note.”

 

Vika nodded and began carefully tracing out the message she had in mind. Disaster averted.

 

“Come on, Hermann, start writing!” Newton cajoled in his most annoying voice.

 

“Fine!” A bit harder than necessary, Hermann grabbed a notepad and began writing.

 

“What are you writing?” the other German asked sweetly.

 

Hermann glared. _Dear God. Please excuse Viktoriya Kaidanovsky’s card. The ink lines are my fault. I was trying to make things better._ Just in case there was a God up there, Hermann added his own request. _And please do something about Dr. Geizler._ He rolled his eyes, feeling ridiculous. _Thank you for your time. Sincerely, Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, PhD._

 

“Ooo, Hermann, can I read it-“

 

“No.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It’s for God, not you,” he said smartly, and taped the paper closed. “There, Viktoriya. Now God will know that it wasn’t your fault,” he said, feeling like he was indulging a child’s illogical whim.

 

“Okay. I’ll mail it next time Mama and Papa take me to the post,” she announced, drawing in a stamp on one corner.

 

“I see.”

 

“Good for you, Vika! I’m sure God’ll get it!”

 

“Newton, don’t be silly-“

 

“Can we eat now?” Vika complained.

 

The scientists looked at each other, startled at the abrupt change of topic. “Uh…”

 

“Mama says she cooked me dinner and put it in the fridge.”

 

“We will get it for you then,” Hermann said, relieved that they would not have to embark on a culinary adventure.

 

“Yeah, here Vika… Put everything back in the arts and craft box and go sit at the table and wait for us,” Newton urged. “We’ll be right back!”

 

Vika nodded her assent and dutifully began picking up stray crayons and paper, as the babysitters went to the kitchenette.

 

When they were out of Vika’s earshot, Newt heaved a sigh. “Phew. What a…”

 

“A…?”

 

“I dunno. It’s not that she’s energetic, it’s just like I feel like I’m trying to feed carrots to an alligator.”

 

Hermann gave him a confused look. “I thought you were doing decently with her? You seemed to have her under some measure of control.”

 

“Well yes, yes, of course,” Newton exclaimed hastily. “But I won’t lie… She’s her parents’ daughter. Of course I’m good with kids though, so don’t you worry, Hermann-“

 

“What? Are you saying that- I am incompetent with children, or that I need your help-“

 

“No, no, but I’m sure Vika has a better time with me,” Newton said smoothly. “At least I didn’t ruin her card without her permission.”

 

“For sakes, good grief Newton- she probably knows at least I tried-“

 

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, now where’s this fridge- ooh, the inside of a Ranger’s fridge, maybe they keep Kaiju souvenirs in here-“

 

“Newton, give it up, there is no way that the Kaidanovskys carry around spare disgusting Kaiju bits!” Hermann exclaimed.

 

“You never know, with Russians,” Newt said cryptically, and then opened the fridge hopefully. “Hmm. Nope. Hey, maybe they have- …Hmm, nope.”

 

Hermann frowned. “You look disappointed, Newton…”

 

“Well yeah, kinda. Look, Hermann. The fridge is filled with… Normal stuff,” he said plaintively.

 

“Of course it is, because they probably do _not_ have to padlock their vegetable drawer to stop unscrupulous little thieves from-“

 

“Come on Hermann, I was hungry and it was five in the morning!”

 

“Then you should have gotten your own produce before all yours grew legs and walked away! You should have been a responsible adult and remember to-“

 

“Hermann it was just some tomatoes and maybe some celery, but by the way, where did you get those baby carrots, they were delicious-“

 

“ _Newton!_ ”  

 

Newton sighed and opened the fridge door wider. True to his word, it was a “normal” fridge- a produce drawer with vegetables, some fruit in a bowl, plastic-wrapped leftovers, milk… Except for the massive amount of vodka in the back, it could have been anyone’s fridge.

 

“I was really hoping that you know, since the Russians, and the black market, and…”

 

Hermann rolled his eyes. “Yes, and that they are stupid enough to store Kaiju parts next to their casserole?”

 

Newt looked down.

 

“Anyways, come now, Newton, pick the tray up and put it in the microwave. Let’s get this tray to the little ape…”

 

Whatever stereotypes might be involved, they were surprised when Newton brought out a neat little ceramic tray with neatly-proportioned plates of different foods arranged on it. Apparently it was cabbage soup, chicken breast, steamed vegetables, and some odd wafer-like bread and paste for Vika’s dinner. When Hermann saw that the carrots were painstakingly cut into hearts, he shook his head, unsure of what the point was. Sentiment didn’t make vegetables any more palatable.  

 

As Newton put it in the microwave punched in two minutes on the timer, he let out a snorting laugh.

 

“What is it, Dr. Geizler?”

 

“Nothing,” Newton said. “Just that when you called her a monkey, it just reminded me of this old study about when macaques react much more favorably to the janitorial staff who refilled their food than the actual scientists doing the project. Just goes to show, food is the way to a monkey’s heart, haha-“

 

They looked at each other in suspicion. The microwave beeped, and Newton quickly grabbed it. “Well, I’ll go wait for this to cool down… In my hands…”

 

“No, I’ll take care of that. Well, why don’t you go check on the girl?” Hermann said smoothly, reaching out for the tray.

 

“No, you go check on Vika, I’ll get the tray,” Newt insisted, hanging onto it.

 

“You know how to talk to her. Keep her occupied; I’ll get her food.”

 

“No, no, you need your cane, you can’t carry the tray in one hand-“

 

“Watch me, Newton-“ Hermann warned, fingers closing around on of the metal handles.

 

“ _You_ watch me-“ Newt jerked the tray back, trying to dislodge his labmate’s hand.

 

_Crash._

 

“Newton!” Hermann screamed, staring at the irreparable mess of food on the ground. “Now look what you’ve gone and did and-“

 

 “I did not do that, it was all you-“

 

“What are we going to do now?!” Hermann moaned. “We can’t just let her starve, that’s- that’s inhumane, children need a high caloric intake relative to their body size after all, if we don’t feed her she might get brain damage and then her parents will-“

 

“Calm down, Hermann, calm down! Okay, think… Well… Come on, we… Oh! Hermann, the fridge is fully stocked!”

 

“Yes, yes, but what are we going to do, the dinner is smashed and-“

 

“We,” Newton said, rolling up his sleeves to expose his tattoos. “We are going to _cook._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't know who to feel bad for anymore.


End file.
